Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Section 3. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. “An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. "It's very well you haven't crushed the poor little thing to death with this confounded clothes'-bag. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely.
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